The Origin of the Flames
by SaltyCandy
Summary: We've seen Gouenji Shuuya encounter hardships regarding his family without us ever realizing that they are not his own. Gouenji came back to Japan from Liocott Island to meet an unexpected guest, his real father. [Hint: Gouenji's real father is NOT an OC] [CURRENTLY ON HIATUS-See PROFILE'S 'Important Notice' (marked August 12, 2017) for more info]
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inazuma Eleven or any of the characters!

* * *

 **= Prologue =**

* * *

"No!" The platinum blond's unusually loud yet stern voice caught the attention of the two men, bringing worry to both.

"Shuuya, calm do-"

"It can't be him! It's not possible!" His voice now pained. He gritted his teeth forming tears at the side of his eyes while inconsiderately pointing at the source of his rage, their visitor. He stood opposite to Shuuya, in front of the organized yet crowded desk that's partnered with a comfy computer chair where it's supposedly hidden from sight. On his right was the long-term occupant of the small room they're in, clothed with a business suit. Obvious signs of workaholic tendencies could be traced on both him and the whole place that he owned.

"Shuuya, listen to me. You need to calm down," the dark skinned man started, trying to get through the child he have already considered his own. It was painful to see him like this. Even with the lack of facial expression, worry and fear radiated from his eyes. He could only think of the things the young man could do. Not particularly to him, as overflowing familial love and respect had always been seen at Shuuya's eyes when looking at his direction, but mostly to the other people in the room. "You have to understand. Hear my brother out," he gestured his hand to the quiet figure beside him, "There's a reason wh-"

"I don't care!" His response brought a surprise to everyone, including himself. The youngest Gouenji in the room twitched at the realization of having shouted at the man he owes a lot to. Guilt rose and his anger almost backed down but it instantly gushed up again when his eyes met the other tall man.

"He is _not_ my father!" He fumed then rushed outside the room running his way downstairs and outside under the late afternoon sky. He ran as fast as he could, unsure of where he's going. He tried not to think of anything but he couldn't seal off the memories of what just unfold. He fought to hold the tears while running his way out of reality, or so he wished.

He reached for the hood of his favorite white shirt trying to hide his face to whoever might see. He was too caught in the moment to realize how it didn't actually hid anything.

* * *

An hour of marathon passed and he finally stopped. He wasn't too surprised where his feet took him. He knew the way to this place too well he could even do it in his sleep. The place that gave him nothing but good memories, the good ol' riverbank he so cherished.

He caught his breath, ever so thankful that his place wasn't all that far from Inazuma Town. This was the place where his adoptive father works after all. Inazuma Town was nearer from his home than where his former school, Kidokawa Seishuu, is. If not for Kidokawa having prestigious offers on soccer-gifted children and having been his dream school all this time, he would have been enrolled in Raimon in the first place.

Having rested enough, he immediately eyed the whole place to search for a soccer ball. Like he expected, there wasn't any. He must really not be in his right mind now to think that someone actually left a soccer ball behind. He didn't have any choice but to sit on the grass for there was nothing for him to do.

He sadly looked at the now bulb-lit bridge slowly realizing how he didn't even see the sky darkened even though he was outside ever since moments before the sun resided. He felt a pang in his heart as he was reminded of all the times when his hardships were almost always accompanied by sunset. He thought he made sure that the last time was when he decided to leave soccer and his team all together right after helping them go against the world. Unfortunately for him, his curse continued.

It's now safe for him to assume that no one's nearby to see him, not that it mattered, but it's better if none of his teammates, especially Endou, would find out.

The scene played again in his mind. The man his father, or uncle rather, introduced to him also returned without an effort. His image never really left him, especially the expression on his face while Shuuya just outright showed his hatred and denial of him. He couldn't read his face, he couldn't read his mind, and it irritated him. He knew that he made it firm that he didn't want to see him again, that he didn't want to accept the truth.

Yes, Shuuya knew very well that his biological uncle told him the truth. The man introduced to him was none other than his father. However, introduced wasn't exactly the word for it for they have already met before. In fact, they even spent some time together for quite a long while, mostly with the company of others. He knew him but he didn't know it was _him._

He looked at him with respect and a bit of admiration. He looked up to him. He saw him as a man he could learn a lot from, he could follow the footsteps of, and he could see surpassing as a goal in the future. But now, everything was different.

Though unusual, he teared up with the feeling of resentment and betrayal. He had always felt ill of his father for leaving him and his mother behind. Even when she died, he didn't see even a portion of his shadow. Even when he was thrown to the rest of their relatives only to be showered with hate for the things his father did, who he knew nothing about, he still didn't show up.

He wished that the worst he was feeling was resentment but it wasn't. It was anger. Not to him but towards himself. He's angry about the fact that he believed every word this man had ever said, that he trusted his every decision, that he obeyed his every word even though he knew from the start that there was something off about him. He somewhat knew there was something but he'd always put it on the back of his mind. He thought it was all but an imagination of his. He put his right arm where his eyes would be and wiped his face with the end of his sleeve.

 _'Why of all people does it have to be you?'_ He sighed, still unsure of what to do and what to think. He laid down the grass looking pass the stars, not really appreciating them. There was just one thing he knew, he could never accept this man. Forgive him? Quite possible. Accept him in his life? No. Not in a million years.

* * *

 **= End of Prologue =**

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** My Mother

 **A/N:** This is the first time I've ever done anything in this site. Criticisms are appreciated~!

 **Edit:** Thanks to Mary Seph for the corrections!


	2. My Mother

**A/N:** I've always intended to start this at the very beginning. **Also, I've edited the prologue!** And I didn't forget about Yuuka there, it was on purpose. You'll know in the future~

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I find it difficult to reply because I'm only using the app but thank you all the same! I can't answer guests but thanks to them too!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own IE or any of its characters!

* * *

 **= Chapter One: My Mother =**

* * *

"I'm hooooooooome~!" A cheerful six-year-old entered the room wearing a glorious smile.

"Welcome home, sweetie. Here, I made breakfast," the little one beamed at the source of the soft voice, a woman in her late twenties standing on the opposite side of the rectangular table placed at the middle of the room. Her slender arm gestured at the plate of onigiri that had been waiting for his arrival. She then crouched down, made easier by her dark-violet jogging pants with vertical white lines on the sides, and shifted the said arm and her free one diagonally to her, as if asking for an embrace.

The platinum blond responded excitedly to it by running his way through the tidy room. He didn't need to walk that far since the first thing anyone would see after the door is the cleverly combined kitchen and dining room itself. The house was not that big to have them separated. In fact, it was only composed of three rooms. The one where the both stood, a bed behind the lady, and a bathroom beside it, each were small and tidy as if really made for only two occupants.

He took the embrace without hesitation, lunging his head on her sleeveless black top. Both of their two arms tightened on each other's back, as if they haven't met for years despite the fact of being together every single day. His little hands touched the loose ponytailed hair of the woman. Slightly caressing the tip of the eye-catching red hair while she rubbed the gravity-defying counterpart of the small figure in return.

They freed each other at the same time and aimed their eyes on both. He had a good view of the pink-violet eyes that looked at him with the familiar warmth. Those were the eyes that were always happy to see him. He also didn't miss the freckles below her eyes and all over her cheeks displaying an obvious trace of an American lineage from her great great grandfather, as to what he'd been told. He flashed the same bright smile that entered the room of which she answered with her gentle one he knew so well of, the one that supported him ever since he could remember.

He was never tired of this everyday routine. Unlike other kids his age and older who cared more about what others would think, he was never embarrassed of the exchange of affection he had always had with her. Afterall, she was the only one he had been with since the beginning, the one who had provided him with protection and warmth, the one who gave him his life, the one who taught him everything he knows, the one he could only confide with, and the one he would only trust. His dearest loving mother.

She stood up and pulled one of the chairs out of the table and did the same to the next. She sat on the latter, still wearing her smile. He didn't wait for a minute to sit on the first one and immediately grab an onigiri on the plate to put in his mouth.

"So, how was practice?" She started after she waited for him to finish his first serving.

"I still don't get it. I'm trying everything I can but I just don't know what I'm doing wrong," he answered with an obvious tone of disappointment whilst lowering his head.

"Shuuya, it's okay," she glanced at him, waiting for his eyes to look at her direction. "You've just learned soccer. It had just been three months. There's no way you can be an expert already."

"But still.." he protested, finally looking at her. This wasn't the expression she wanted to see but it was what she expected.

"Well, why not let me come to your practice then? I can help," she gave out a weak smile while her little one was left shocked in return. His eyes widened, not believing what he heard. He struggled to find the words.

"Y-You can't- I mean, you don't have to. Your legs are bad. The doctor said-"

"Shuuya, I know you. That's not your real reason," the young man gulped at her response.

"It's... part of the reason," he admitted while unconsciously eyeing the table. He knew he couldn't hide anything from her but he just had to try, even if just a bit. He couldn't let her come to his practice. It's true that she had leg problems due to an accident that happened a couple of years back but that wasn't the case. He knew she'll just be watching anyways, after giving some terrifyingly accurate advices, of course. What bothered him was what pushed him to this sport in the first place. Memories of three months ago dawned on him.

* * *

 _He was helping his mother clean their little home. Of course, a little place like this wasn't that difficult to clean but this particular child is admittedly overprotective and rather not make the number one woman in his life suffer worse with her legs._

 _He stormed on their room with a plastic bag in tow to take some portion of things, mostly his, to take out. He accidentally saw a suspiciously old box hidden under her mother's clothes he so nonchalantly scruffled on. Even someone who had always been called mature for his age wasn't safe from what they call 'children's curiosity.' Scratch that, child or not, anyone would be pulled in on such a mysterious box._

 _He opened it, not ever being able to imagine what he would find inside. What greeted him were: two red shirts with black markings all over and two red shorts that seemed to be the partners of both, identifying two sets of uniforms to be exact; one blurry landscaped picture of a group of what seemed to be middle school students wearing the said uniform; and a letter tied with a black thin knot._

 _One of the shirts piqued his interest most and held it with his hands. The word 'Kidokawa' imprinted on his mind after surprisingly getting mesmerized at a simple clothing. He tried to wear it as if someone wanted him to. It was loose on him, he was still on the first few years of his life._

 _Suddenly, a sound of bang on the wooden floor directed his attention on the room's entrance. He saw the most important person in his life on her knees with tears falling. It was the very first time he remembered seeing this strong person cry before him. She was always smiling, he never even thought this day would come, or at least not this early._

 _He went towards her almost as if by reflex. She hugged him, the tightest hug he could remember receiving. She cried more, to his surprise, and spoke the words he would never forget. A sad voice echoed, "I know this day would come."_ _Then, only things his young mind can take was told to him._

 _He was told about a particular man. His curiosity shrank after seeing how her eyes were, without even being able to mention his name. He figured he rather not ask more. He already believed only she mattered to him anyways. She was the only one who had been there for him afterall. There was only the two of them for each other. He didn't hate the man, he even wanted to know more but he realized everything he had now was more than enough._

 _He was told of how the uniforms were from both his parents and the one he had worn was the property of his old man. He was told about the picture with almost indistinguishable faces. Not their names nor their real identities but the very importance all these people had to the woman beside him. Though hardly recognizable, he could tell which one was his mother. Strangely enough, she was the only female in the team and was even sitting at the front. A particular letter was left shrouded in mystery with an additional quote from her, "You'll know soon." She flashed another weak smile._

* * *

He decided not to ever mention the man again because of somehow managing to sadden his mother with the memories he always brought with him. All he knew was he was on the same soccer club she used to be part in, _Kidokawa_. The kid got his eyes fixated on that name for quite some time that he gave it more attention instead.

Without her knowing, he researched about the subject. Word of mouth alone from random young soccer fans provided him information. A middle school known for having strong and young soccer geniuses. He felt proud of knowing both his parents went there and came to be part of a probably strong soccer team.

He grew admiration to the said school and tried soccer himself. He would always secretly go out in the morning to practice the sport alone and then on the later afternoons before the sun sets. He would imitate how the more experienced do it, to no avail.

He didn't want her to find out but she did, as if miraculously. He thought she would be disappointed, sad, or even angry about it but she wasn't. She even bought him his own soccer ball and showed her supportive side to the matter. She had given him helpful advices without even having been able to watch him play once.

Ever since then, he would always went home with a different breakfast waiting for him. It had been great and he got accustomed to this routine. As he looked at her now, he couldn't stop thinking about how maybe all of these pained her but she rather not show. How maybe bringing her with him on practice will refresh some forgotten scars. How maybe letting her help him will make her cry again. Her tears were something he didn't want to see ever again.

"Are you sure you don't want to see mommy's hissatsu shoot?" She jokingly commented with a soft giggle. Surely, the aspiring soccer player was more than happy to see an actual experienced one shoot live, especially after knowing she used to wear a No. 10 uniform. Although he knew well she can't because of her condition, nothing still stopped him from getting thrilled of the imagery in his head. The thought was indeed tempting but he knew there were more pressing matters at hand.

"W-Well.. um.."

"Shuuya.." she started with a calm tone. "I truly love soccer _and_ your father." He fell silent and stayed wide-eyed at her revelation.

"B-but I thought.."

"It wasn't like that. It's hard to explain now but you'll understand soon. I know you're avoiding asking about him but you misunderstood. It really is fine with me," she finished with a soothing smile. He nodded enthusiastically having his new found resolved. He wanted to ask but he figured the questions could come after. They have all the time on their hands afterall, he thought to himself. She gestured yet another hug of which he accepted cheerfully.

 ** _Riiiiiiing riiiiiiiing riiiiing~_**

The sound of the phone ringing disrupted the sweet embrace. She reached for it without further notice and put it on her ear.

"Izumi Machiko speaking. Can I help you?"

He handed another onigiri from the table. He wasn't the type to eavesdrop people, especially not his own mother. Not through her letters, her messages, or even the things she write that wasn't for him. Yet, his attention was caught on an unlikely thump of a fallen telephone.

"Mom.. is everything.. okay?"

* * *

 **= End of Chapter One =**

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** My Mother's Passing

 **A/N:** Criticisms (especially grammatical and spelling errors) are appreciated~!

Hope you enjoyed reading!


	3. My Mother's Passing

**A/N:** Thank you so much for all the reviews! I had trouble seeing them in time. I think this app is not working quite well with my device and the messages just won't show. Anyways, I really do appreciate it! Criticisms (especially grammatical and spelling errors) are highly appreciated~!

 **WARNING:** Contains **character** **death**.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own IE or any of its characters!

* * *

 **= Chapter Two: My Mother's Passing =**

* * *

The sun was already on the farther west, a mere two hours before it sets. On a small open basketball court, a shadow of a young man with a flame-shaped hair rounded again and again. The sound of his steady breathing and his nonstop dribbling accompanied his sweaty form. It must be unusual yet no one could deny that it was happening. A place meant for street basketball was being used for soccer dribbling practice by a six-year-old. Anyone looking would understand why. The small community couldn't afford its own soccer field or a closed basketball court. The surrounding greeneries wouldn't help either. Even an experienced soccer player would have a hard time dribbling past the medium heights of the untamed grass. The place, on a simpler term, was similar to a small village. And like a small village, only a few citizens were living their daily lives there. Another way to proclaim that, other than the platinum blond almost out of his breath, the court was indeed empty.

He wasn't stopping for what it seemed like hours of pushing his little body to its limit. Even with his dedication, his dribbling abilities were behind. Frequent tripping and tumbling have proven the case. Yet, he would still stand up and kick the ball, ignoring all the scratches and bruises.

His concern didn't help him focus either. He was merely kicking the ball to get his mind off the issue, overdoing it in the process. It hurt him to be away his home yet he didn't have a choice. He finally stopped and let gravity take his back. He knew it would hurt a bit but three months of figuring out how to run with a ball in front of you could make anyone immune from the consequences that came with it. Plus, he already learned how to fall less painfully. Less, but still painful. He pondered on the earlier event that had been consuming him.

* * *

 _"Mom.. is everything.. okay?" He let go of what was left of his onigiri. His eyes were full of worry for the older woman._

 _"Y-Yeah. Everything's fine," she answered with a forced smile. Unease crept on the child. He never had this feeling before. That phone call meant something serious. Serious enough to break his dear mother's composure. She was strong and composed most of the time. She didn't often hesitates either. It was as if she was always sure of herself, confident that everything would go the way she wanted it to. Which gave him the more reason to worry._

 _He stared at her, waiting for.. something. He himself wasn't sure of what he was waiting for. Maybe he was waiting for her to tell him what's wrong. Maybe he was simply waiting for that reassurance that everything was going fine. Maybe it was both. He found it hard to tell and it left him a bit less than frustrated._

 _Seeing the worry forming on his eyes, she chuckled a bit and honestly this time. She was more than sure that she was lucky to have such a mature and thoughtful child. She earned a now confusing look in return. She had to admit that it was adorable and.. familiar. Her smile vanished and she put the phone back to its place. He was ready to listen to anything. She sighed and crouched, leveling her little one. She ruffled his hair and finally spoke, "Don't you have to get ready for practice? You can't practice on an empty stomach." She gave him an assured wink and went back to her seat, gesturing to the chair beside her._

 _He sighed in return, it wasn't a disrespectful one. Both knew he wouldn't do anything as such to her. He wore a forced smile but obliged. He had the reassurance he wanted to hear and see yet, it wasn't enough. It didn't eased his nerves. He felt his stomach turn. This was really unusual. Especially when he's eating the most delicious onigiri in the world, to him at least. He still ate his fill, automatically registering his and his mother's principle about wasting food._ _He was aware she was watching and it made him feel worse. He knew those keen eyes of hers couldn't miss anything. Without looking, he felt the gaze turn soft and sincere._

 _After he finished everything on his plate, she ruffled his hair once more and looked at his eyes. His eyes that were still as concern as it could ever get. She leaned and captured him in an embrace. To him it was warm and comforting yet disturbing at the same time. It gave him a slight feeling of distraught and longing. As if he's gonna miss her. As if they were gonna be apart. He shrugged off the feeling. Spoiling this wonderful moment is the last thing he'll do. The hug more or less took a longer time than it should have._

 _For some reason, his mother started uttering the words, "I love you and I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud of who you are right now and the man you'll become." She held him tighter and he realized a tear escaped his right eye. She let him go. Watery pink-violet eyes met his. A situation he could no longer grasp left him speechless and bewildered._

* * *

Eyes of the lying figure shot open. He realized he fell asleep and rested longer than he should have when he couldn't see the sun anymore. The sky was still bright and painted orange. Normally, he would stay longer to train but a weird sensation told him otherwise. He sprung his body up, feeling really shaken up by something unknown to him. Adrenaline rushed through him and left only one thing in his mind: _he had to go home._

He couldn't tell why but he just found himself running faster than he had ever gone before. His heartbeat even in a speed beyond his legs. Was he not tired from all his training earlier? Why was his legs moving as if he was having a sugar rush? Even more so, the feeling he had came back _and_ it's worse. He felt like throwing up. His stomach was turning more than just 180 degrees. He clenched his orange tshirt with his hand. _'Something's wrong. Something is definitely wrong,"_ he couldn't stop chanting to himself.

He finally arrived to his destination after five short mortifying minutes of running. He didn't try to catch his breath and proceeded to the door. He reached for the doorknob. Strange things kept on piling up as he realized it wasn't locked. The strangest thing was how he suddenly felt weak all over his body. He had an idea of what might have his feelings indicated now but he wouldn't entertain it. His young mind wouldn't allow it. He fell down on his knees, whether it was because he over exerted himself or something else entirely was beyond him. He was shaking uncontrollably, unable to stand up. At that moment, he knew he was scared. No, scared was an understatement. He was terrified out of his wits. He suddenly felt like running again but this time away from his house. But he couldn't, he shouldn't. He had to know what's going on. He had to know the reason he was feeling this way. He had to confirm he was wrong. _He had to go._

It took long before he opened the door. He had to push off every bit of fear he had in his system to do so. He left it open and walked inside looking in every direction and in every detail. Surely the house was quiet enough but it wasn't peaceful. Calm before the storm, as what some would describe it. Slowly, his feet moved forward, one after the other. He didn't know what he would see and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to yet he couldn't afford stopping. He continued with great care until finally, his worst fear took form.

Besides their dim flourescent light, orange rays from outside lit a familiar body lying cold on the floor. He could see water flowing from her person, ' _Wait.. water? Water can't be red.'_ He shook his head in disbelief, _'It can't be.'_ His knees trembled yet he still held himself up enough to stay standing, _'This must be a dream. This must be a nightmare.'_

He leaned closer and touched her black shirt from the side. He shook the form of a woman whose back was turned to him. Without the response he was waiting for, he shook her more violently. He was feeling more breathless at the second. Water flowed again but it wasn't coming from her this time and it certainly wasn't red. It was from him. From his eyes.

The more he shook the more tears fell. He tried thinking of something he should do. Something he could do but to no avail. His emotions flooded each and every logical sense he had. The last forceful shake took him aback and landed him on his rear. Not moving. Not speaking. Not thinking.

His gaze was fixed on a particular knife on a familiar chest. It was where the blood came from. He was still, tears falling continuously without him realizing it. Only a loud painful shriek from the door's direction woke him up from shock.

* * *

 **= End of Chapter Two =**

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** My Mother's Friends

 **A/N:** I therefore conclude that drama is not meant for me lol. Agh, me so sowwy. I dunno how to make things emotional. That's why the update took long. Do forgive me, I am trying.

ALSO, I'M SO SORRY FOR KILLING A MOTHER AT MOTHER'S DAY. I DID NOT MEAN TO CHOOSE THIS DAY TO UPDATE THIS. I SWEAR I DIDN'T.


	4. My Mother's Friends

**A/N:** If you didn't know yet, you're actually given a right to kill this author for updating slowly (lol). Anywho, call me out on my mistakes. I'd be happy to answer to that. Enjoy~!

 **ALSO, I've done minor edits on the first three chapters! Tell me of what I did wrong in them!**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything especially IE and its characters. I hath no property!

* * *

 **= Chapter Three: My Mother's Friends =**

* * *

"Shuuya.. kun.."

"Shuuya-kun."

"Hai," a young flame-haired responded flatly. He looked as sincerely as he could to the direction of the serene voice. She was about in her late forties. Her head owned brown semi-curly hair that traced down her bare shoulders. Her heart-shaped face contained two squinty eyes with chestnut pupils that usually gave out welcoming vibes, of which in this occasion, simply showed grief trying to be masked with a smile. She was wearing a knee-length black summer dress that hugged her curvy form. Pearl earrings and black doll shoes complemented her dress dearly.

"I said, are you tired? You should eat or rest. Machi, doesn't want you skipping sleep and any of your meals like that," the boy who was seated on a traditional japanese style on a white-laced pillow tried to smile at the woman who kneeled to reach his level. He wasn't comfortable with the mention of his mother's nickname. Yet, at the same time, he felt at ease to hear it, too. It was somewhat a rule of hers when she was still alive, to only let a very few chosen people to call her that. She considered letting anyone call her nickname as a token of trust for she believed only very close friends could address her so casually. The black sleeves of his black suit tightened as he clenced his fists and crouched slightly at the memory. He calmed himself down as soon as he noticed his own reaction. He hid his pain by straightening himself again and putting his palms on the thigh part of his black pants. Still feeling stung, he now tried to fix the imaginary mess he had on the black tie that was neatly tightened around the collar of his white long-sleeves.

"I'm fine, Aunt Mito," he answered as he shook his head. "Thank you," he tried to form a genuine arc on his lips again.

She gave an empathetic smile in return, not missing his shaky gestures, "Tell me if you need anything." She stood up and walked to his right to peek on a picture of a smiling red-head. Her hair was loose, the ends weren't seen on the zoomed shoulder-length framed photo. A tear dared escaped from her left eye but she wiped it right after, not wanting to show the sitting six-year-old. Not like he was looking anyways. She moved back to her seat, opposite to the child's. She let her mind wander as she looked at the white-carpeted floor.

The spikey-haired young one looked at her. He didn't exactly feel anything at the moment but he knew he was thankful. From the eyes of an average man, she was a kind yet sexy bachelorette they wouldn't mind to line up for a whole year just to get an attention from. But for this particular platinum blond, she was the closest he had for an aunt. She was always in their house either to bring them food, to help, or to simply talk to her late mother. From his perspective, the two were inseparable best friends. She's a selfless woman who had always been on his mother's side the moment they moved here. A moment he was still too young to remember.

She was always calm and collected until.. that time. That time when he heard her blood curdling scream from their door. That time he saw the lifeless body of his mother. He still vaguely remembered how their other neighbors swarm in their little home, then the ambulance, then the police. It was truly chaos.

He remembered being investigated by a certain tan-skinned man. He called himself Onigawara Gengorou and deemed that he knew his deceased mother. He didn't seem to think he was the suspect yet he found that the word 'interrogate' suited the _confidential_ conversation they had. He asked him questions, tons of it. Most of it were things he didn't want to recall. He wasn't forced to answer either because of the influence of the tragedy to him, especially for someone his age. Yet, he allowed it anyway. He gave him an idea that it might not just be what it seemed. The phone call. The letter bound with a black knot that was the only thing missing besides all the money her mother was saving. What he got out of the detective, as he called himself, in return for the emotional rollercoaster of an excuse of a question-and-answer was that it wasn't just a case of a simple robbery. It was more or less related to his parents' soccer career that rooted from their middle school years.

He tried to ask subtly about what else the fifty years old man knew about his father yet just got a sincere apology as a response. It wasn't because he didn't know but it was because he _did_ know but couldn't tell. So, he didn't take it against him. He felt that at the short time they knew each other, talked to each other, the man was a reliable and good man. In fact, he even tried to help him as much as he could. From the documents to his mother's place of burial, everything was well prepared.

He was then told by him that he was going to live with his father's family from now on. The family of a man whose name was never even mentioned to him. He honestly didn't know what to feel about it. He couldn't tell if it was good news at all. Should he be happy to finally know that said important part of his being? Should he be mad that said person wouldn't even do as much as visit his mother one last time? His mind wandered further to how would his relative look like and what would they be like. Did some of them looked like him? Did they liked the same things he like? Were they nice people? Were they going to tell him about his father? He focused suddenly on the last thought. His father. If he's gonna be living with his father's family, would he be able to.. would he finally be able to.. meet his da-

"If I'd just known I wish I could've helped you more, Machi. I'm sorry."

His eyes shot open. He heard a man's voice. A man's calm and gentle voice who mentioned his mother's name so casually. As adrenaline rushed him to get up, he immediately fell on his face. He felt the thunderous collision of his chest and his features on the floor.

A woman he recognized as a vegetable vendor his mom used to buy a lot from, made her way to him to help him up. She was saying something he was too preoccupied to understand. He shifted his head in every direction possible, ignoring the sting that made its way on his upper body and some minor headache he didn't even know how originated. The room was still as white as it could ever be. The casket was still on his right with all the flowers. There were still two rows of pillows lined on the floor. He then realized he had dozed off as Aunt Mito wasn't sitting opposite to him anymore. It was just him and the lady. He looked at the worried woman earnestly. His voice formed a shout, "Where is he?!"

"What?" She answered, her face now changing to confusion.

"T-The man!" He stuttered as he considered how vague his words were. "The man who was here just seconds ago! Where is he?!" He continued with a panicked expression.

"O-oh! I saw a man walking away outside before I got inside here. But that was minutes ago," she supplied him with as much as her memory served. In her surprise, the boy was immediately on his feet. "Wait!" She half-squealed on the back of a kid trotting away.

As soon as he was outside, he saw a fair amount of people in black and some occassions, white, all were busy with their own things. He figured he wasn't the only one who had a family that passed away in that place. He looked around still, even after fully knowing it was in vain. Some deep breathes after, the pain of his fall and his exhaustion from everything else, weighed on him. He made his way back in the room disappointed and tired.

There were a lot of rooms inside the small and wide building. He went inside the huge double door that seemed triple his size. He continued walking on his left side, passing three equally large rooms with fairly smaller double doors.

He instinctively looked in the first room, the only one with an open door, as he slowly walk passed it. It had two crying women inside. A twenty-something-year-old and an older one, with two or three more adults by their side trying to comfort them. He deducted that the two were the significant other and the mother of the deceased respectively, as he stole a glance of the man on the framed picture sitting on the casket. He felt a pang of guilt and sympathy at the sight. Guilt for somehow eavesdropping and sympathy for he knew well of how it felt to lose someone. For that reason, he chose to not look at the others and strided on the fourth room.

The moment he entered, he was suffocated by an overly worried Mito. He was caught defenseless with the bone crushing yet sincere hug, "Too.. tight.." He managed to say.

"Oh. Sorry," she let go of him. Her soft features formed a frown in a split second making the little man gulped. "I went to the bathroom for 15 minutes and you suddenly went running outside! You scared the wits out of me, you know!" With a sigh, she changed her expression yet again, "Also, were you hurt? The lady said you fell."

He was terrified yet grateful at the same time. It's good to know someone cared enough to scold you. It made him wonder if she really never had kids before. She seemed to be a full-fledge mother from the way she reacted, that's how his' was, at least, "Nope. I'm fine." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again," He bowed his head gently with his first genuinely glad smile in a while.

She didn't miss it and ended up doing the same. She hugged him again, more gently than before, and he returned the gesture just as warmly, "Now.. Apologize to the sweet lady for scaring her, too." She released him and tilted her own body enough for the flame-haired to see the familiar lady smiling at the two's antics.

"Hello ma'am. I'm sorry for shouting earlier and.. for everything else," he bowed, a lot lower than before. Then, a sudden realization crept up on him. "Wait! You saw him right? What does he look like?!" His voice changed from relaxed to excitement.

"Shuuya-kun!" Mito glared at the young man who just comically straightened himself from the abrupt call of his name.

"S-Sorry again. I didn't mean to-"

He was stopped by her sudden giggling, confusing the two. "It's okay. Don't worry about it," she reassured both of them. "Also, about that man," he raised his head to stare at her attentively. She also cought Mito's interest, "Like I said, I just saw him from afar. He came out of this room and he walked so fast to the other side, I didn't even saw his face."

The little boy's expression saddened for a split second before brightening almost immediately, "His hair! Have you seen his hair?! How tall is he?"

"My, my, what an energetic child. Wait, let me think.." she simply responded to the eager boy.

"What's this about a man? Do you know him, Shuuya-kun?" She saw the young man fidget as he looked for an answer.

"W-Well. It's.. It's because he called mom by her nickname. So, maybe-"

"It was blue! Like, dark blue and it was short. Really really short. And he was just as tall as your aunt," she started talking, not knowing she interrupted someone. "He was wearing a black suit as well. I'm sure he came to visit your mother."

"C-Could it be that he's your-" She stopped herself mid sentence and looked at Shuuya who seemed to be thinking the same thing. The lady, however, gave them a confused look.

"I don't know. I don't know what he looks like," he said flatly. "But I was just sitting three feet away from the casket. If it was him.. maybe.. I mean, h-he could have recognized me. I'm his.." he trailed off.

She knew exactly where his sentence was going. She was suddenly saddened by the emotion she could feel him repressing. "Thank you so much," she was put out of her thought as her friend's child suddenly spoke and bowed appreciatively at the other woman and then tilted his body to meet her brown orbs, after. "Aunt Mito, can I go outside a bit?"

She noticed the pained expression he was trying to hide. "Just.. promise me you'll be back for dinner," she figured it was for the best. He seemed to need it.

"Promise," he smiled and hugged Mito then left both women inside the room.

* * *

Shuuya arrived at the same open basketball court he goes to practice everyday. He didn't have a watch with him but he was sure it was already two in the afternoon because of where the sun was placed. Beads of water streamed down his head. It wasn't that tiring for him but it was sure hot. The temperature was normal for that time of the day, even for that month. He really wasn't the type to feel hot so easily or to sweat that much. But the cloth of his black suit and pants and the two hours straight he just walked wearing them were really what did a number on him.

He observed the familiar surrounding. It was, as he left it, empty. He sat at the part where the grass was most tamed, where he could stay without getting too irritated. He stared blankly at the lonely court, letting his mind slip again. _'What if.. I didn't go to practice that time? Will she still be alive?'_ He knew well it was a dangerous thought but he couldn't help it, _'What if I didn't know about them playing soccer before? Could I have made a difference?'_ He suddenly felt a swirl of emotions tempting to make its way on his chest. He erased the thoughts.. the memories as fast as he could. Just when he was thinking he had to distract himself, a familiar continuous bouncing sound rang on his ear. His mouth slightly opened at what he saw as he snapped from his trance, or more accurately, at what he _didn't see_ while he was staring exactly at the middle of the court, where the surprise was.

A person was in the middle of skillfully maneuvering a soccerball all over his body. He observed the dark-violet jacketed form as he headbutt it with his hooded head and went to his nape with ease. He soon pushed it up with the force of his torso and let it land on his knee covered with dark colored pants where he suddenly stopped and balanced it. The child kept looking at him in awe. He assumed that he was a _he_ from his obviously broaded body. Even though the man was not doing anything at the moment, Shuuya was still too dumbstruck to move. He was now wondering how or why he was presented with such feat.

All of a sudden, the mysterious man used his knee to forcefully throw the ball up high, even higher than the basket itself. The beginner at soccer had his focus on the ball so he didn't see how the man be able to jump as high as it did. The speed of his ascension wasn't to be taken lightly either. To the eyes of the child, it seemed like he just suddenly appeared at the same height as the ball before the very moment gravity started pulling it down again. His left brown shoed foot collided with the ball with force and he shot it right in the basket.

He felt time paused at that moment. Goosebumps slowly crawled up, from his back to his limbs. He was shaking, not with fear this time but with excitement, a wide grin dared form on his mouth. "Whoa.." He let the words escaped as his body unconsciously stood on his feet and his eyes twinkle with amazement.

The man scooped the ball with his right hand and walked towards his direction, his eyes following suit. He just realized that this man was fairly tall. Taller than his mother, his Aunt Mito, and most people he knew at least. He tried looking at his face on a failed attempt to see what he looked like. Unfortunately, his lips were the only thing possible to be seen even from his low angle. He continued walking, and the more he got close the more the little flame-haired find himself unable to move his body. Something about this man seemed.. intimidating.

To his surprise, the man actually walked passed him, stopping at his left. He couldn't see yet he sensed the older person's left hand raised. It landed on his gravity-defying do, rubbing it gently. Normally, he wouldn't let strangers touch his hair or anywhere at all but there was something about the gesture that suggested comfort and.. care? He found it soothing and he felt something on his chest, the same feeling he had moments ago. A weird swirl of emotions tempting to escape and this time, he couldn't control them.

Without his consent, his emotions ran down his cheeks. There was an unending supply of tears as his body shook for releasing all the heavy repressed feelings he had on his chest. To his embarrassment, he bowed his head slightly, failing to hide them. He tried stopping it with his arms, the sleeves of his suit claiming all the waterworks, to no avail. He even heard himself wail. It really didn't matter how mature he thought he was because on this angle, he did still seemed to be a lost six-year-old child, missing his mother so much.

The man, however, didn't seem 'weirded out,' as the boy would call it, from his sudden outburst. He tightened his grip on his hair a bit, as if he was feeling the exact same way. For a while, he believed the adult was empathizing with him.

Some minutes after, the tears started to flow slower until they resided completely. He couldn't look at the man still, he felt embarrassed for crying with the stranger's touch. He felt the left hand raised again, returning to its owner.

"Don't give up."

They were only few simple words but they were enough to light a fire inside of Shuuya. He felt his chest thump with passion, with feelings for something that he knew he would never be able to live without. His lips formed a smile of determination. A new resolve trace his face. An unspoken promise made with himself. Without looking, he started to speak, "Thank you, si-"

A sound of a bounce interrupted him, again. A soccerball suddenly came falling in front of him. He caught it with his hands by reflex. He observed the round shape without thinking much of where it came from. His eyes trailed on the black and white colors of it where he saw scratches that were.. awfully familiar to him. A sudden realization struck him as his eyes widen at the object.

"This is.. This is my soccerball!" He swiftly swung his head on his back, looking for the culprit, "What?!" Now, his body was the one to turn. He looked in every direction but found not a single human being. How the man suddenly disappeared like that was yet another mystery about the hooded figure.

* * *

 ** _Somewhere On Another Place.._**

"Sousui. I have succeeded in retrieving it," a letter tied with a black knot was inside of what seemed like a small zipped plastic bag. It was being handed by a skinny man with an average height to another who was wearing a dark blue long sleeved polo that was buttoned all the way and partnered with the same colored pants. The place was dark, with just a light behind the one called Sousui who was sitting behind a table, to bring a small aid of brightness.

"Very well," the man crouched his form and smiled menacingly as his hands clasped together, elbows on top of a rectangular table. His triangular sunglasses shone even with the deprived light in the room.

* * *

 **= End of Chapter Three =**

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** My Father's Family

 **A/N: THE TWO MYSTERIOUS MEN HE MET THAT DAY ARE NOT THE SAME PERSON. I REPEAT, NOT THE SAME PERSON. But yeah, one of those two is his father.**

 **More A/Ns (lol):** WHY OH WHYYYY is it easier to bataread than to make my own sh*tty story! Another thing, if you were wondering how that man who mentioned his mother's nickname was already gone minutes ago before Gouenji woke up and absorbed those words, it's because he was half-asleep. It happens to me all the time when the tv is open and I'm beginning to wake up. I remember hearing things from the show that was actually said minutes ago. It even sometimes gets entangled in my dreams making it weirder than it should.

Hope you enjoyed reading!


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